


Monachopsis

by Wezenstyx



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Okay bye, Poetry, a school assignment inspired it, i wrote this during early quarantine, taggin original works is weird, upsettingly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 01:54:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28663515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wezenstyx/pseuds/Wezenstyx
Summary: MonachopsisnounThe subtle but persistent feeling of being out of place-The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows
Kudos: 2





	Monachopsis

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a new one. Publishing original work. Crazy. 
> 
> The poem itself is not new, like I said I wrote it in the early stages of lockdown. I would not go so far as to say that it is deeply personal, but these feelings are things that I struggle with almost daily, especially in the midst of the pandemic. 
> 
> I don't really know what else to say, so I'm just gonna leave this here. I hope you enjoy!

Monachopsis

_noun_

  1. people talk of being uncomfortable in their own skin, of not fitting in despite their circle of close friends who have been by their sides since there were sides to be at. they are the loveable underdogs, the protagonists of every story. the everymen. well, everyman, but me. 
  2. i live a life of unspoken loneliness. a living cliche. i live in a small world in which i tell myself that i’m the first one to ever experience these problems, these feelings. i tell myself that i’m the first to sit at a table, surrounded by the unending bustle of the teenage agenda, and not know how to join in the conversation. to feel that my contributions to the world at large are merely stage directions for a play i didn’t have the guts to be a part of. i let myself believe that i’m the parentheses in history’s retelling, interesting to those who take the time to look at me, talk to me, but ultimately _unimportant._
  3. there’s a logical side of me that knows that this is not the case, i am not _that_ special. but i see classmates out with their cliques and i see my friends have experiences in my absence. thinking like this makes me selfish. who am i to forbid them to have friends without me? to scoff at their audacity to live their own lives?
  4. and so the negative spiral continues, seemingly endless. i let myself fall, spin out of control, but choose to blame it on factors that are out of my reach. i blame it on my lack of power. my inability to wield the pen that writes my story.
  5. then, just as the end of the abyss comes into view, the destination lovingly named rock bottom, about to be reached, i remember. i remember that the parentheses are what hold the heart of the sentence, they contain the information that an author didn’t deem necessary to their narrative, but wanted the reader to have anyway. i remember that a play with no directions is merely a story with no setting, a journey with no path.
  6. and i remember why the tale of the underdog is one so often told, and the life of the everyman so often understood. because at the bottom of that abyss we are destined to meet every person that has ever stood on the face of the earth, to realize that we were never the first and we are far from the last.



**Author's Note:**

> For those wondering, I have been told that this is called a "dictionary poem." I was assigned one in school (for which I used the word petrichor) and the purpose of it is to define a word, in a similar layout to a dictionary definition, without actively defining it. Hence, poetry. 
> 
> Since writing that assignment and this poem I have been unable to find anything like it, so if you've heard or seen any, lmk I would love to read more. Or, if you write one, share it with me. I think these are really cool. 
> 
> Anyway, sorry for rambling. Thanks for reading, you're the best!


End file.
